Prairie Housewife
by SetsuntaMew
Summary: Malik fails at keeping his clothing in one piece and Bakura sews like a woman. Somehow they're still successful bandits in the Old West. BM.


**Prairie Housewife**  
by SetsuntaMew

I actually wrote this back in October when I was sewing my boyfriend's cowboy!Malik vest. I accidentally cut too far into the fabric & didn't have enough to cut a new piece. I wrote this as a "sorry I broke your cosplay" present and then never got around to posting it anywhere.

Anyway, Bakura & Malik are cowboys. Or bandits. Or a combination of the two, depending on what's most convenient at the time. I usually hate writing AUs, but this works out to be some lovely crack.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine, homeslices. Cowboy!Malik inspired by YGO: Abridged because I'm a fangirl.

**-x-x-x-x-x-**

"Oh my god it's _ripped_!" Malik exclaimed unhappily.

Bakura looked up from the small pile of gold and bills the two had acquired earlier, confused by his partner's distress. "What?"

The blond looked forlorn and pointed to his vest. The shiny gold and lilac brocade had a rip, maybe an inch or two long, from the arm hole towards the chest. Bakura rolled his eyes and went back to counting, sighing.

Malik frowned. "This is serious!"

"Fine, we'll get you a new vest. It's not the end of the world."

"But I like THIS one! Fix it!"

Bakura raised an eyebrow. "You want me to...fix your vest."

"Yes!"

"How?"

Malik crossed his arms. "I don't know but I fully expect you to figure it out! This is my favorite one and nothing will replace it properly!"

He'd realized long ago that arguing with Malik's stupid logic was a complete waste of time. Instead, Bakura stalked off to another room and returned with a small brown box. He sat down and looked up at Malik expectantly. "Your vest?"

"What?"

"Do you want me to fix it or not?"

Malik grinned and nearly threw the thing into Bakura's hands. "Oh yeah! Fix away!"

Bakura set the vest down in his lap and sighed again. He opened the box and dug around inside until he found what he was looking for: a needle and some golden yellow thread. "Do you have any extra bits of fabric?"

"Uh, what?" Malik stared at Bakura like he'd grown another head.

The white haired man nearly reached over and strangled him in annoyance. "I'm fixing your vest, idiot. If you want it fixed, I need some fabric to sew to the back of the rip."

"**Oh**, that makes sense! I don't have any."

"Malik, do you TRY to be ridiculously unhelpful, or does it just come naturally?"

The blond grinned again. "Whichever one annoys you more!"

Bakura gritted his teeth and stomped off, returning with a few slightly torn up shirts. He sifted through them for a bit, finally picking up a light yellow one and ripping off a hunk of fabric. Malik leaned over him to watch. "What are you doing?"

"Fixing. Your. Vest."

Malik pouted. "I meant specifically!"

"Do you REALLY want a step by step process of this?" Bakura went back to the needle, threading it and tying off the end.

Malik moved to pick through the small box, examining the various colors of thread inside. "I don't know. Is it interesting?"

"Not particularly," Bakura responded, matching up the edges of the rip and reaching for the box. He frowned. "I need that back, you know."

"Aw, why? I'm looking through it!"

"Malik. Your vest. Do you want it fixed some time in the near future?" The blond responded by sticking his tongue out and handing over the box. Bakura pulled a few pins out of it and started pinning the scrap fabric to the back of the vest, under the tear. Malik moved back to lean over him, watching carefully as Bakura started stitching the edges of the rip back together.

He continued to watch Bakura sew for awhile before interrupting his concentration. "I just have one question, Kura."

Bakura groaned. "_WHAT_, Malik?"

"Why in hell's name do you know how to sew?"

"It's a practical skill!" Bakura snapped, glaring.

Malik snickered. "If by practical, you mean effeminate. What are you, some prairie housewife?"

Bakura responded maturely by stabbing a pin into Malik's leg.

"FUCK YOU! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?"

"I'm fixing your damn vest. Stop whining or I'll sew it to your face."

Malik pouted and wandered off, since his entertainment was no longer nicely amusing him. Bakura sighed for the umpteenth time and continued mending Malik's vest.

**-x-x-x-x-x-**

"Malik."

The blond nearly jumped a foot in the air. He turned around and glared. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

Bakura merely handed over the vest. Malik immediately flipped it around to inspect where the rip was. There was still a slightly visible disfigurement, but it was barely noticeable now. He looked it over for a moment longer before flinging his arms around Bakura's neck and hugging him. "You fixed it!"

"Of course I did. Idiot," Bakura responded, but there was no annoyance in his voice, only amusement. He ruffled Malik's hair and hugged him back, pleased. "You're welcome, by the way."

"Thank you!" he exclaimed, nuzzling Bakura's neck. "I _guess_ you'll want me to repay you for this, you selfish bastard."

Bakura grinned. "Oh, I could definitely think of a couple things you could do for me."

**-x-x-x-x-x-**

Thanks for reading, my fellow yugios. It's like you're my amigos, but with more card games. 


End file.
